Who would've Guessed
by FaerieQueen3
Summary: What happens when two people who are supposed to be enemies, have to survive together? Find out by following Francessca Margolis and Isaac Bennett in the most dangerous mission of all...love.
1. Chapter 1

HI! I-AM-JANUS HERE :-D! UGH, SORRY ABOUT THAT GUYS I INJURED MY ARM, AND ONCE I GOT BETTER I WAS JUST LAZY. OH, AND MY BEST FRIEND RECENTLY GOT OUT OF A COMMA, SO HOORAY ! :-D! PARTY AT THE JANUS HEADQUARTERS ;-)!

GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!

And hail to "I Swear On The Styx", "Joelle8", "Alexandra", "mellamaet", and "music4evah". I STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU READ THEIR STORIES :-).

PLEAS, DON'T BE TOO PISSED THAT I'M REDOING THIS CHAPTER AGAIN, BUT I JUST KNOW I CAN MAKE IT BETTER. THIS IS THE LAST TIME, NO MATTER WHAT :-).

* * *

Francessca

This is bad, this is bad, this is really, REALLY bad...

Was what was running through the mind of a fifteen-year-old Janus girl by the name of Francessca Margolis as she was led down a long, forest-green hallway towards Cora Witch-I MEAN _WIZARD'S_-office by one of the more disgusting members of the Janus branch, who was currently whistling what Francessca supposed was an horribly off-key version of the "Jaws" theme song. Fitting.

Francessca sighed frustratedly at the foreboding music as she tugged her pale fingers through her honey-blond waves and praying harder than she ever had in her life that the "_lovely"_ Mrs. Wizard would be in a good mood. Meaning that, instead of making her clean the base AND go without any art form for three months AND have to go to Ekatarina lectures for the rest of the year; she would just have to be an indentured servant of sorts for 7 weeks. That's not _so_ bad...right? She shook her head and held whatever dignity she still had together as she marched down the hall to her doom. (Hey, she's a Janus. If she's gonna' die, it'd better be dramatic.)

Now, I know that you're probably _itching _to know why a sweet-(most of time)-, innocent-(not really)-kid-(if you count fifteen as a kid)- like this was doing in the Hallway of Destruction-as many of the Janus had come to call it. Well, we could go through a long and boring story about how a 300 year old Janus artifact ended up in a thousand pieces on the floor...and the crack in the Mona Lisa, and the tragedy concerning the first edition of "Wuthering Heights"; but let's stay away from our dear Francessca's..._destructive _tendencies for the time being, shall we?

She twiddled her fingers together trying to pull herself together to avoid getting another lecture about how "...a Cahill must carry themselves with dignity..." blah, blah, blah. It seemed as though she had been an outcast ever sense she had come to live here three years ago after her Norweigan Father had died under "mysterious circumstances"-which she knew very well meant he was killed by a Cahill and the "members of family" in the police force were ordered to keep a lid on it.

She was taken to the Italian base by Cora few days after his death, and told about how her Mother was an Italian Janus which made her, Francessca Margolis, a member of the most powerful-and extensive-family in the world. Cora never mentioned Francessca's Father, which she thought was odd; but figured she was trying to distract her from the pain...she knew better know.

"HEY? Sunshine? We're here kid."

She snapped her head up to see that they were indeed in front of a large wooden door with the words "For Jane, Forever" written in an overly flashy script on the top. In fact, the only reason she could read it was because she had asked one of the other agents when she first came there. Of course, she _was_ scolded for thinking that "Jane" said "Kate" but she had still gotten an answer.

She took a deep breath, trying to steel her nerves for whatever sort of "scolding" awaited her on the other side.

"Well," the man taunted. "you going, or do I have to push you?" She glared at the smirking man. She hated when others used what small amount of power they had to hurt others, it made her blood boil.

She took one last breath before stepping through the door, she had been so deep in thought that she didn't even notice when it had been opened by someone on the inside. The door slammed shut behind her and she turned around to see that it wasn't a guard as she had previously thought, but Cora Wizard herself who had opened and shut the door. She felt a certain amount of dread wash over her. This lady scared her out of her wits, she would just watch you with this ever-present smile while you pleaded that it wasn't intentional, that it wasn't supposed to happen that way; and then calmly give the death sentence. Figuratively, and literally.

"Hello, dear." The woman said, brushing pass the young girl and rounding the desk to the other side. Francessca just stared. Cora laughed. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" still, she said nothing.

She sighed, "Well, if you won't talk to _me,_ then I guess I'm going to be doing all the socializing aren't I?" the teenager just nodded, knowing that she really wouldn't have been able to say much anyway, and whatever she did say would probably be used against her somehow. "Alright-ey then," she started all too cheerfully, "let's begin."

The middle-aged woman turned to a TV screen to her right and pressed a button on her desk. Instantly, the screen lit up with picture of a snowy country; Francessca recognized it right away-seeing as though she had been briefed on it too many times to count.

"Siberia!" she blurted out. Cora looked at her with what she supposed was intended to be a reassuring look, but just scared the crap..._crabs_, out of her. The two Cahills then turned back to the screen which now showed a map of a run-down building, surrounded by a barbed wire fence-which Francessca guessed was electrical-and had a bunch on trucks filled with Lord-knows-what parked inside. Francessca felt her blood freeze.

"Do you know this place?" Cora asked with feigned interest. "The Colnian base?" Francessca said, hoping she was wrong. Mrs. Wizard clapped her hands, "Very good!" she said cheerily. "do you know who the Colnians are?" Francessca thought for a moment, she had only been told that the Colnians were extremely dangerous and were to be avoided at all costs. "Enemies?" she guessed, which was received with a "Yes, they are indeed enemies of _all_ Cahills. Do you know why?" Now the teen was stumped so she did the safe thing and shrugged. Cora clucked. "Then I'll just have to teach you, won't I?"

Francessca listened as her branch leader explained how the Colnians were descendants of a man named Cole Drivin, who was believed to have been in love with Gideon's wife, Olivia; and how Gideon, in a jealous rage, had accused Cole of murdering his and Olivia's oldest child, Demetrius, a year earlier.

"Gideon and Olivia had another child?" She interrupted, dumbfounded.

"Yes, he actually died of pneumonia. Though this fact is only known to a precious few, shall I continue?"

"Yes...Ma'am."

The woman smirked before going on to say that Cole had managed to escape prison during a fire, and vowed that he would return and destroy the Cahill family.

"To this day, the Colnians _still_ abuse the Cahills. Stealing information, killing valuable agents, destroying clues. Anything and everything to bring us down." Francessca shuddered and couldn't help but think that Cora seemed a little too plesed her reaction. "What I need you to do," she continued. "is to go to this location-the only known Colnian base-retrieve stolen Janus information, and come back a better-and more trust worthy agent than when you left."

Francessca gulped and wrung her hands together. There was a million things that could go wrong. Passports, infiltration, bugs, agent recognition-

"Do you accept?" she asked. Or more of, she said it like a question, but meant it as, "_Go or I'll give you a much more painful sentence." _She took a deep breath. _Now or never..._

"Yes, Mrs. Wizard."

* * *

_Isaac_

_Could not. Get more. BORING!_

This, is what was running through the mind of a certain fifteen-year-old Ekat as he sat in a school-room-like seat; listening to Bae Oh give a lecture of some sort about technological advances in the computer world. Don't get me wrong, Isaac Bennett loved his branch as much as the next guy, but even a seasoned Clue Hunter couldn't sit through Bae's speeches.

"...It is imparative that this technology..."

His eyes started to droop, and his mind started to get foggy.

"...disastrous..."

Not long now...

"MR. BENNETT!"

Isaac whipped his head up resulting in his chair with a resounding thud. The other Ekatarinas were silent for a moment before the younger ones burst out laughing and the older murmered their disapproval. Pfft, as if they hadn't fallen asleep during a meeting before. Isaac cursed under his breath as he crawled back into his seat. Bae just glared.

"I assume-Mr Bennett-that the reason you took this opportunity to get some 'shut-eye' is because you have already been briefed on this matter?"

"Huh," came his intelligent reply. One of the newer agents sniggered causing Bae to look up and give him his signature, '_shut-up or die'_ look which was immediatly complied to. Isaac couldn't help but smirk. The phrase 'misery likes company' is oh-so-true.

Bae stared at the boy for a moment longer before turning his attention back to Isaac. Joy. The strange thing was, he didn't look angry-which was his form of happiness-but he looked thoughtful. Isaac mused that he was probably deciding whether he should have him on prabtion for a month, or make him his personal whipping boy. Either one-according to Isaaic- was a fate worse than death, and he's probably right.

Then he smiled, _'Crap.'_

_"_Sense you're so sure of your abilities, I'll give you a chance to prove it. How does Operation Eagle sound?" The room went stark still, and deathly silence to go with it. A thousand thoughts were running through Isaaic's mind, all of them imossible. Then, someone dared...

"OPERATION EAGLE? The mission to Sibera, to the _Colnian base?_ The Colnians already have an absurd amount of information about us, one false move and they'll know _everything_! And you want to trust the fate of our branch, of all Cahills to this _boy, _this-this _child?" _He gestured to the afore-mentioned trainee like he was a disease that he didn't want to catch and Isaaic did NOT appreciate it. "Surely you must be joking,"

Bae shifted his eyes towards him and-somewhat irritatedly-said, "Mr. Dukakis, in all the years you have known me have you ever known me to be one to 'joke'?" the man took a deep breath, "No sir." He leant back into his seat rigidly, "You never have." Bae nodded.

"Besides," he continued. "I'm sure Mr. Bennett is very eager to prove his worth to the branch, show that he's not _totally_ worthless." Isaac ground his teeth together, and his knuckles went white from gripping his deck too hard. He calmed himself before standing up from his chair.

"Sir, I accept the responsibility placed upon me to complete Operation Eagle."

Bae smirked. "Good, very good."

* * *

_**LOVE IT? HATE IT? YOU DECIDE :-D! **_

**_LOVE YOU ALL!_****_  
_**

**_N.C_**


	2. Chapter 2

__

_****_

HI! I-AM-JANUS HERE :-D! I DECIDED TO REWRITE THE CHAPTER-SINCE I DIDN'T UPLOAD IT RIGHT THE FIRST TIME, AND I DIDN'T LIKE THE WAY IT TURNED OUT. THIS CHAPTER FOCUSES MORE ON WHAT HAPPENS BEFORE THEY GET TO THE CELL.

GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!

And hail to "I Swear On The Styx"

__PLEAS, ENJOY :-D!

* * *

Chapter 2:

_Francessca_

"OWE! KNOCK IT OFF, YA' LITTLE WORM!" snapped the guard as he led a seething Francessca through the halls of a Colnian prison-reason being because she had gotten into the habit of infuriating the tall, gruff-looking agents.

"You know," Francessca said calmly-well, calmy considering that she had just been discovered, tied-up, kidnapped, and transported with atleast a dozen other agents, NONE of which were Janus, to a smelly base all before 3:00 am. She had been sent to Siberia to spy on Colnian advances and, if possible, retrieve a stolen Janus clue. Obviously, that didn't quite go as planned. "It's very good that you're admitting that your a worm, but it's probably not that great for your mental health-IF you have a mind, which I doubt-that not only are you talking to yourself, but telling yourself to stop doing something! It's quite sad, really. You should really see Dr. Dantrim, he's a very good psychiatrist, and an accomplished Janus and-" she was cut off by one of the guards pleading, "Oh, will you SHUT-UP!" his face was pained, though you really couldn't blame him. You'd look pained too, if a fifteen-year old girl had been insulting you half of the time, and then rambling about her own accomplishments and that of ther branch-especially that of ther branch-the other half.** (A/N: Even I have to admit that we can be QUITE annoying.)**

The guards had grown weary of Francessca's excessive babbling and had duck-taped her mouth shut-she REALLY didn't want to think about how to take it off-so since she couldn't talk, she started to think; and was surprised when her mind wandered to a brown-haired Ekatarina that she had met in the truck she had been tossed into.

He had been civil enough, one of the few who didn't try to get clues out of her on the way here-unlike a couple of Lucians that were "riding" with her-and for that she was grateful. She remembered how he had run out of the truck as soon as they stopped, and how the guards had caught him, bashing him on the head with a club or somehthing similar. She wondered what had happened to him. Was he okay, was he injured, was he dead, was he..."_Stop that!" _she scolded herself. _"Civil or not he is still from another branch; and if you meet him again_..." She shook her head trying to rid her mind of the things that she had been trained for, things that she hadn't thought human beings were capable of doing to one another. Stealing the clues, and being the first to the next location...no matter what.

She tried to convince herself that hers was the only good branch, the only ones who would truly bring world piece 'round, but there was always that nagging voice that said '_murderers, murderers, murderers, murderers__...' _

At last, they stopped in front a room...a small room. REALLY small, like, the size of a very tiny kitchen. She was just about to celbrate the fact that atleast she'd be alone to do as she pleased, when she saw the same boy from the truck being carried by a Colnian and was alarmed when she noticed a yellow dragon on pant-pocket, and even more alarmed when she realized that she still felt a slight concern for his well-being.

You see, Francessca had always been a very motherly person. Sure she had been pretty annoying around the guards, but that was in an _effort_ to annoy them. When she had her first "fight" at the age of thirteen, she hadn't even wanted to battle with the twelve-year old Tomas, it was mandatory. If there's someone from another branch in your school, neighborhood, etc. you _had_ to fight them. Sort of a way to show the other who's boss.

She groaned, and would've face-palmed herself if her hands hadn't been tied up. She might not've been an Ekat-like the boy obviously was-but she wasn't stupid. They had gone through all the wings of the prison, and the one that they were now stopped in front of, was the only vacant spot...she would have to room with an Ekat.

ISSAC

_Isaac was in a truck with about eleven other Cahills surrounding him; all of them older, deadlier, more experienced. Strange as it was, this boosted his self-esteem, now instead of thinking, "I was captured by Colnians! How stupid can I get?" he could think, "Hey, maybe I'm just as good as these Lucian big-shots, the ones who keep trying to smoothtalk me into giving up my clues."_

_He already knew that there was no way to escape, there weren't any windows, the door was guarded by agents;-even if they weren't well-trained, they were still twice the size of a teenage boy, in height and muscle-and the only vent was FAR too small for a human to fit through. Didn't help that whenever the door opened to toss in a new abductee, it was only for a few seconds, and the door wasn't big enough for more than one person at a time. The entire thing was made of steel, without a single electric or battery operated tool in site...except for maybe the guards tasers._

_He sighed and leaned back-he had only slept for an hour all day-but then decided that closing your eyes**, **probably wasn't the best thing to do when 90% of the people there were trying to steal your clues-he had a flashdrive containing the clues in his shoe-and other 10%-who happened to be fellow Ekats-wanted to strangle you. (He had quite the reputation amongst his branch, and NOT for good reasons.) So he sat up, and decided to just avoid getting fitted for a hallow and a pair of wings-he wanted to go to heaven, but not QUITE yet. _

_They had already been driving for who knows how long-trying to confuse anyone from one of the branches who might've been following them in order to retrieve their better agents-and Isaac was just about to ask one of the Lucians to go ahead and poisen him already, when a girl was thrown in. She couldn't have been any older than Issac, if anything, she looked younger, with her slim figure and petite frame. He couldn't make out exactly what she looked like, but even in the dark, he could see thick, sandy-blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. _

_She looked just as scared and disappointed as he felt, and he couldn't help but smile at her-though it probably looked more like a grimmace-but she just furrowed her brow together in a worried way and plopped down in a corner by herself-which was probably safer, being alone I mean. _

_He noticed that the other agents had already seen the "new prey" and were already smiling and saying soothing words to her in an easily seen through attempt to gain leverage. "Note to self," Isaac muttered, softly enough for only him to hear. "NEVER hang around a Cahill of a different branch for too long."_ _he really didn't see the point in trying to get clues when they didn't even know if they were going to get out alive, but everyone else seemed to. _

_After what seemed like a life-time, the truck came to a stop, and the trucks doors were opened as one of the guards beckoned for them to come out. Issac didn't know what came over him, all he knew was that they weren't inside the gates yet and there was freedom beckoning to him. _

_He ran, faster than he had ever run before, but not fast enough. Because before he had even been running for a minute, he felt a severe pain and then everything went dark._

"Hey! Squirt? Up with ya', boy." Issac blinked. Once, twice and then the world started to come back into focus, fuzzy at first, but then clearer until he could see stone all around him and metal bars blocking the ways to _puny_ living quarters...he was in a prison.

He groaed and rubbed his hand along where he had been struck about an hour ago; and recognized the feeling of medical guaze... Then he looked up and started at the sight of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl, with a forest-green work on her ski-cap. _A Janus_...he thought but decided not to elaborate.

"Say hello to you're new roommate." The guard said cherrily. "Roommate?" said Issac now bolt-upright with wide eyes. This made the guard laugh.

"Yes, a roommate. The pair of you will be stationed together until another slot opens up in, oh, SIX MONTHS!" He laughed again, and this time was joined by the other guards.

"_SIX MONTHS!" _They both shouted. So what if they had been able to stand a two-hour truck ride, that was WAY different than half a year!

"Yup, six _whole_ months with an enemy spy, now no more questions!" With that, he opened the cell, tossed them in, and locked before they could even take one step away from what they considered the end of the world. "Have fun," one of the men taunted, and tossed the keys into his pocket.

The two looked at eachother and sighed...let the chaos begin.

* * *

_**BETTER, WORSE, YOU DECIDE :-D! **_

**_LOVE YOU ALL!_**

**_N.C_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

_**OKAY, I-AM-JANUS HERE! SORRY FOR NOT WRITING, IT'S BEEN BUSY. ANY WAY, I DO NOT OWN THE 39 CLUES OR ANY OF IT'S CHARACTERS, I DO OWN THE FRANCESSCA MARGOLIS, ISAAC BENNETT, AND THE COLNIANS.**_

**_GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!_**

* * *

Isaac was bored. Not just you're regular sit at home and do nothing bored, but BORED! As in to the point of suicide! Which is why he was currently slamming his forehead into the wall of a concrete holding cell at a Colnian base. It was painful to be sure, but nothing, ABSOLUTLEY _**NOTHING**_ could possibly be worse than 13 straight hourse of what he considered pointless Janus babble! Here he was, trying to figure out a way to escape, and all she could do was pace back and forth saying thing like,

"How **_dare _**they do this to me!" or...

"Don't they realize how terrible this is for stress!" and...

"MY LESSONS! I won't be able to practice my dance for months if not longer!" or...

"Oh what a calamity!"

_"Janus.."_ Isaac muttered hoplessly to himself while gazing weerily at his befuddled companion

"**WHAT WAS THAT!" **She snapped turning her piercing eyes in his direction. Isaac bit his lip, apparently he would have to be more careful when insulting his cell-mate (not that he planned too...)

"Oh, nothing." He said absentmindedly, and was thrilled a few moments later by the infuriated look that suddenly appeared on her face. But he couldn't help but become suddenly afraid when an evil smirk replaced the wide-mouthed shock.

"Well," she said calmly, "I'd rather be a Janus than a lab-rat!" she ended triumphantly. Now is was _his_ turn to be insulted. And he immediatly responded with, "AT LEAST I'M NOT A STARVING ARTIST!" Francessca stepped back in shock, but regained her composer and glared vicously. What followed was about half-an-hour of,

"GEEK!"

"MORON!"

"IDIOT! I

"GLORIFIED NON-TALENT!"

"PHSYCHOTIC NINCOMPOOP!" etc. Until Isaac said something...er rather...yelled something that _really _got the attention of the rookie Janus.

"YOUR BRANCH COULN'T RULE THE WORL IF YOUR _**LIVES**_ DEPENDED ON IT!"

"A..A...AND YOU'D PROBABLY...BLOW IT TO BITS!" She shouted back a little hesitantly. He smirked triumphantly at her hesitance and shouted, "SO YOU ADMIT YOU COULDN'T RUN THE WORLD?" He questioned with a pumpus look."I...NEVER SAID THAT!" Francessca replied trying to keep hold of whatever composure she had left, and doing a not-so-good job of it. "BUT YOU IMPLIED IT!"She snapped back to reality with a new found hatred,"ONLY AS MUCH AS YOU IMPLIED THAT YOU'D DESTROY IT!" She dared through gritted teeth. They said no more but simply glared, as though in some desperate attempt to turn the other one to ashes...

What followed was about 5 minutes of suspense so thick that you could've cut it with a knife, they didn't speak, the didn't move, question lies to this day wether or not they even breathed. They just stayed there, as if any sudden movement would set off some sort of an explosion, (which if you think about it, it would).

Just when it was getting to the point of going to a little eerie to run-under-your-bed-and-hide-there-for-the-next-fifty-years DISTURBING! A guard came through a shoved 2 small plates filled with some sort of grayish-brown mulch and then walked away without a sound. The rival Cahills first looked at each other, then to the unidentified substance plopped onto the metal dishes before them.

"What _is _that?" Francessca asked in an urked tone. She wasn't all that willing to eat something which she was pretty sure she just saw move...pretty sure. "Probably dog poop." Isaac offered jokingly, but the look he recieved in return was anything but amused. Although it amused him very much indeed.

"It looks like," Francessca began, after a few silent moments.

"Cafeteria food." Isaac finished for her, but rather than glaring she turned pale and gulped."I _hate _cafeteria food..." Isaac stated under his breath as they edged a bit closer to the plates. It was humorous really, here were 2 Cahill agents, trained to face unspeakable danger and death, brought to their nerves end by prison food!

Isaac turned to Francessca to see a look of disgust plastered across her face. He chuckled earning himself a do-that-one-more-time-and-I'll-personally-tear-you-apart look which he had learned through the 13 hours he'd been with her, that he shouldn't doubt for an instant and it stopped him within a nano-second. Francessca gave him one final glare before they looked back to mush and to his horror, Isaac's stomach began to growl and at the same instant, Francessca's did the same. Although you couldn't blame them, for even though they didn't want to admit it, neither one of them had eaten for 24 hours and the mulch looked surprisingly appetizing...disturbing.

"Ladies first." Isaac declared after a few moments as he stepped to one side with a teasing smirk.

Francessca glared but stepped forward, picked up the plate and then, to Isaac's horror, she _ate _it! SHE ACTUALLY **_ATE IT_**! And as if that wasn't bad enough she **_smiled!_** Isaac looked as though he was about to barf up his non-exsistent breakfast, lunch, and he was SURE that he would barf up whatever it was that was soon to be his DINNER!

"It's...not that bad...!" Francessca said nothing but pure surprise in her voice at she turned towards her companion. At this, Isaac turned an unsightly shade of green. His eyes were half closed and he was swaying as though he were on a ship, as he beheld the unsightly thing of a teenage girl, eating a sort of mush of who _knows_ what and ENJOYING it! It was more than he could bare!

"Try it!" Francessca demamded suddenly excited.

"WHAT?" Isaac shouted half-heartedly turning paler than paper.

"TRY IT!" She said again, a little sharper this time. He sighed, but not wanting to get on her bad side, grabbed the spoon, "Go on," she urged, dipped it in. "It doesn't bite," she beckoned playfully, he smiled slightly but it turned into a frown again once he turned his eyes towards the lump in front on him. With one swift motion, he gathered a bit in the spoon, brought to his mouth, and swallowed! It was only after he had swallowed that he realized she was right, it wasn't that bad!

"I guess it's okay..." He said sheepishly in response to the smug look on her face."As the Americans would say, 'I told you so'." She said said a 15-year-old-girl sort of way and turned bright pink and said,"It didn't help that you were so afraid of it." He stated in his defence."Me?" She questioned haughtily. "It was _you _who got the idea that it was poisenous!" She added laughing."I never said it was poinsenous!" He said thinking back a little, to when they were discussing what it could be."Cafeteria food, poisen, is there really a difference?" She asked smirking. (A/N: No offence, but the Cafteria in my school is HORRIBLE! THE PUDDING COULD BE DENTAL SEAL! :-P) He stifled a giggle, "I guess not." there was a moment of silence, but not an akward silence, more of a...calm silence; like a temporary truce.

"Well," Francessca interjected, trying to get rid of the silence. "I suppose that we should get some sleep." It was only after she said this that they realized that they hadn't slept for was must've been over 14 hours, what with the being kidnapped and all."I guess so." Isaac said stretching his back and winced a little at the crack that emmitted from it. He turned to Francessca and widened his eyes at what he saw. She was _sweeping. _

Isaac was dumbfounded, I mean, he'd heard that girls tended to be tidy (except for the Tomas) and that the Janus were the **absolute _WORST! _**But to sweep in a _prison cell! _He was just about to say something about pointless female obsessions, when he realized that she was only sweeping one spot on the opposite side of the cell than the bed was. He would've asked er about this had his Ekatarina mind not kicked in, and he reallized what she was doing...

"You...you're...I mean...you're not really gonna...are you?" was his brilliant response to her sitting on the bed and motioning him to the place she had just swept.

"Yes. You're sleeping on the floor." she said calmly, a sickly-sweet smile plastered across her face.

"WHAT?" he asked loudly. "WHY?"

She sighed as though it was the most obvious thing in the world and said. "Well, it's either that, _or _I sleep on the floor. And I think we both know that _that's _not going to happen." she sighed is a exaggerated manner and batted her wasn't quite sure what he said next, but it sounded like it rhymed with 'witch'... She shrugged and lay down on the mattress. It was dusty, and lumpy, but she was willing to bet anything that it was better than the floor.

"Oh, and I'd be careful, I think I saw a rat where I was sweeping."

"What's your problem?"

"You are my problem, and you should be happy I swept at all! You _could _be sleeping on that dead cocroach I found."

"You suck."

"You suck more. "

"Do not!" he retorted only to realize that his companion was breathing soundly, fast asleep. He sighed, angry that 1) he had to sleep on the floor, and 2) that he had to share a room with an sarcastic girl. He lay on the stone floor curling up a his wind-breaker as a pillow, he lay his head down only to come face to face with none other than a dead cocroach. He sighed, _I think I can really learn to hate that girl..._ were his final thoughts before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

**SO WHAT DO YOU THINK? GOOD, BAD, EXCEEDINGLY TERRIBLE, YOU DECIDE. I KNOW IT'S KIND OF SHORT, BUT 'TIS LIFE.**

**N.C**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 3**_

_**OKAY, I-AM-JANUS HERE! SORRY FOR NOT WRITING. THIS IS BASICALLY A FILLER CHAPTER TO GET YOU TOO KNOW MORE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS, IT'LL BECOME IMPORTANT LATER ON, SO DON'T FORGET IT. OH, AND THERE'S A POLL ON MY PROFILE TO HELP ME OUT WITH IDEAS FOR MY STORY, SO BE SURE TO CHECK THAT OUT.**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE 39 CLUES OR ANY OF IT'S CHARACTERS, I DO OWN THE FRANCESSCA MARGOLIS, AND ISAAC BENNETT.**_

**_GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST! _**

**_(OH, AND HAIL TO "I SWEAR ON THE STYX", It's an agreement we have.)_**

* * *

**The Dreams**

_An 8 year old Isaac was tip-toeing down the stairs in footsy pajamas, he was holding his breath as though that would help him not to be found, we wasn't exactly supposed to be up at 2:00a.m. He heard voices, two of them belonging to his Mother and Father- who had always been loving people-speaking with a fiercness that he had never known before, and it scared him...badly. There was another voice as well, a man's voice. For some reason, this voice sent a shiver up Isaac's spine, never had he met-or heard for that matter-someone so cold, so...unfeeling. He nervously edged his way to the main floor and peeked around the kitchen corner to see his parents, pale, and clinging to each other at one end of the room, and at least ten tall men at the other; he couldn't help but notice, that all of the men, had a large "V" on the fronts of dark shirts and low-brimmed hats. The man at the front of the group made an NFL player look like a midget.__He was shocked at how scared his parents looked, _were._ They were outnumbered-that was for certain-but his parents had always seemed so...**sure **about everything. They had never looked so fragile, so...vulnerable, huddling in the corner like scared children. Then the tall man spoke,_

_"You think that the Colnians are the ones to be feared, but you're wrong."_

_"H-how so?" Asked Isaac's father, stuttering for the first time in his life. The man noticed this and smirked, not the kind of smirk someone has when they put a fart bag on your seat or rocket-fuel on your note-book-(wich was an everyday occurance in the school Isaac went to, a school for "Katherine's Kids." whatever that meant." No, the look that crossed HIS face was murderous, his parents couldn't do aything to stop him, and he knew it. That scared Isaac more than anything else. He wanted to scream out to his parents, tell them to do something, but he knew it wouldn't do any good._

_The man laughed-not a cheery one at that- and said, "Gideon had many enemies, Cole was just one of them, and the inferior one might I add." he spat the name "Cole" like it was poisen. _

_"There is no "superiority" left when you're at the level of the lowest scum! The Conians, the Vespers, the Aruthians, you're worthless! You will never rise to the level of the Ekatarinas, NEVER!" Isaac beamed with pride at his mother's courage, or was it foolishness? Either way, she stood up to them, and Isaac would never forget that. NEVER. _

_The man glared-obviously angry at being insulted this way- but then smirked and said in return, "Well, you're not an Ekat. Are you, Silene Cahill?" He emphasized the work Cahill in the most revolting way. His Mother paled, and the V-man's smirk only broadened._

_ At this point, he drew a revolver out of his coat. Isaac's eye's widened with a thousand different emotion: fear, panic, anger, pride; he couldn't exactly place it. "But let's see which one of us will be under the dirt." He cocked the gun. "Now, I'm going to count to three, and unless you want us to give your son the same treatment, you'll tell us where the clues are."_

_"Find them yourself!" His father spat with whatever courage he had left. _

_Isaac's eyes shifted towards his father and he felt his heart stop, for all around them, all the way to where Isaac was standing-though he couldn't imagine why he hadn't noticed it before-was nytroglycerin. He was surprised that it hadn't combusted already! He panicked even more when he realized that his father's coat, was drenched in the stuff. He looked into his eyes, and his eyes were knowing...he knew what he was doing. __His parents had once told him about certain..."treasures"...hidden in the house, apparently they believed that those treasures were worth their lives._

_"One." _

_Isaac knew he had to get out of there, and he high-tailed it towards the door._

_"Two." _

_He was at the back door jiggling the knob-it was stiff due to the winter cold._

_"Three." _

_Isaac heard the explosion before he even hit the wet, cold grass-though that was more preferable to getting blown to bits!. His first thought was "I just survived an expolosion, AWESOME!", but as he turned towards the burning house, the seriousness of the situation sunk in and he felt like his heart would explode. His parents were gone, and they weren't coming back..._

_

* * *

_

A twelve-year old Francessca was sitting lying on her chest on her bed in her "Play" **(A/N: It's a really cool girl band.)** themed room. She was rubbing her temples, trying to finish her homework...science homework. Music she had done five minutes after it was assigned (she could write a symphony without a problem, a violin piece was no different), math she could handle, history came naturally. But science could've just as well have been a foreign language. She groaned and rolled over staring at the ceiling. She decided that she had worked long enough, and went down-stairs to get something for lunch.

Once in the kitchen, she noticed that she had gotten a call from one of her teachers...her science teacher. She face-clapped herself. And realized that today was the day when she had been assigned to go to the assistant principle's house for tutoring, which she needed...alot. She quickly pulled a slice of bread from the fridge, grabbed her science books, and sprinted outside. She ran at top speed all the way to Mrs. Rugby's house,although she couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed when she arrived, panting on the porch of the smelly old place. Couldn't she have taken a wrong turn and ended up at the house of her best friend, Jane, instead?

She sighed and walked up to the door; she would've rung the doorbell,-(it was a blue bear, which had always puzzeld her)-but something stopped her. Call her superstitious, **(A/N: Did I spell that right?)** but she had a bad feeling about this; and unlike most people, she was almost never wrong about that sort of thing. She pressed her ear against the door and pulled back a moment later, startled by the sound of her Father's voice on the other side, it sounded like he was argueing with someone.

She took a few deep breaths and then resumed listening, though she only caught a few tid-bits of the conversation-seeing as though they were whispering half the time. "...do this to us, Tori? You who knew...so well."

"Don't you...make...feel guilty...Samuel!

"...Francessca? She's only a girl...can't...clue-hunt."

"...either...Tomas, like you...Janus...Mother." Francessca gasped, what could this have to do with her Mother? Her Mother was dead...right?

"NO!...won't...do that to her...can't." Mrs. Rugby-or Tori as it appeared to be-sighed loudly and said, "Then...I...no choice...sorry..." Three, ear-splitting sounds pierced the air; two of them were gun-shots, the other a cry of pure agony...her Father's agony. Francessca corvered her mouth as her breath caught in her throat, and a lone, anguished tear made it's way down her face.

She wanted to run to him and hold him in her arms, but she knew that she would only be putting her own life in danger by doing that. She waited until the woman left-through the back-door, luckily-then dashed in and cried herself to sleep on her Father's shoulders for the last time.

* * *

**DON'T WORRY, BOTH DREAMS WILL BE FURTHER EXPLAINED IN ANOTHER CHAPTER. JUST TO KEEP YOU IN SUSPENSE.**

**N.C**


	5. Chapter 5

**HI! I-AM-JANUS HERE :-D! HERE'S CHAPTER 5 FINALLY, SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG :-(. **

**GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!**

**And hail to "I Swear On The Styx", "Joelle8", "Alexandra", "mellamaet", "Alex Almighty" and "music4evah". I STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU READ THEIR STORIES :-).**

* * *

_3 WEEKS LATER_

Isaaic woke up with a stabbing pain in his back that was now familiar to him. _As if having a bad dream wasn't enough. _He didn't know how long he had been in the pitiful cell with his "co-agent", but it had to have been atleast a couple of weeks by now and everyday the same. He would get up-with some difficulty-and stretch his muscles which were always stiff from the cold floor. Then he would wake up Francessca by either:  
1) Yelling at her and saying it reminded him of her singing-which she insisted on practicing,  
2) Bang the tray that they had been given food on against the bars of the cell and ask if the "music was pleasing to her",  
or  
3) He would just tug the sheets and pull her off the bed.

The rest of their days were filled with argueing, sulking, and her yelling at him not to be so immature. The only things Isaaic looked forward too anymore was waking her up in the morning and beating her in a fight about nothing and everything. (The quarreling had just turned into a way to pass the time and no longer had meaning.)

_Looks like she's comfortable, _he thought sourly. You really can't blame him. Not only had he gotten a terrible night's sleep, but he was hungry and his inner-clock was completely off. He hadn't had normal sleeping hours ever since he got here, since they couldn't tell what time it was since there were no windows. He wasn't sure whether he was craving breakfast, lunch, or dinner, and he found it pretty darn annoying. Especially since his "roomy" didn't seen too bothered by any of the above. He looked towards the doorway to see a couple of loaves of stale bread and a jug of water. He grumbled and was well on his way to throwing a pitty-party when he was struck by a "wonderful" idea.

He strutted over to the front of the cell where the "food"-if you could call it that-was and gingerly picked up the jug of freezing liquid and walked over to the bed. He looked at Francessca who was sleeping soundly. _Not for long..._ he lifted the jug over her head and shouted, "RISE AND SHINE SLEEPING BEAUTY!" before pouring the water all over the girl. She let out an earsplitting screech as she popped off the mattress and started shaking and marching, trying to warm herself up. It didn't work.

Isaaic doubled over with laughter only managing to sputter, "The...the look on you- OH GOSH- the look on your face!" He would have continued laughing if he hadn't been hit upside the head. Hard. He looked up to see an infuriated-and dripping wet-Francessca holding a loaf of bread over her head like a weapon.

He blinked. Had she just whacked him with _breakfast_? That was low. "Say you're sorry," she commanded tightening her girp on the cracking-yet very painful to be hit with bread. Hoever, Isaaic wasn't one to give up so easily he dashed over to the tray and picked up the other loaf shouting, "Challenge me if you dare!" Yeah. Being in an enclosed space for too long REALLY messes with your head. She looked at him like he had grown two heads for second, but smirked and went into fencing position. "Oh, I dare."

She advanced first, catching him slightly off guard but he recoverd and stabbed her on the shoulder. She gave him the "_you're going to pay for that" _glare and whacked his wrist with her loaf. He almost dropped his bread but was able to keep a hold on it. They continued food-fencing for some time until Isaaic did something that threw Francessca completely off. He ate his weapon.

"What the...what on EARTH are you doing?" she asked laughing. Now it was his turn to give her a "_you're a wierdo" _look. "I'm hungry," he replied, his mouth full of the bland starch. "You goffa' pwoblem wif fat?" Francessca burst out laughing. "Whub 'o 'unny?" She laughed harder. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he realized how ridiculous he sounded and joined her.

"Ya' know," he said as the histerical laughter died down to occasional giggles. "You're not as repulsive as I originally thought."

Francessca looked up sharply, blue eyes on brown, "And you're not as funny, charming, or intelligent as you think you are, which leads me to believe that you have very poor perception with these things."

Isaaic just sat there as she sauntered away with her head held high and he sighed,

_So much for being friends..._

* * *

Isaaic woke up to a high-pitched screaming noise only a little ways off. _What on Earth..._ He walked over to the entrance of a cell-in the shadows so as not to be seen-and saw a woman being led down the hall towards them. At first, he figured that they were just taking er to one of the other holding cells, but he wrong. Dead wrong.

They led her to a little, unoccupied room just diagonally across from him-which he hadn't even noticed as she continued screaming and kicking, cursing them so fast that Isaaic couldn't even distinguish the language. Polish maybe? The room which they had led her into looked dark and damp, the walls completely bare except for two cuffs hanging from the wall which they were now clamping onto her wrists.

"What are they doing?" Isaaic jumped at the pale Francessca who had appeared beside him.

"I don't know." But even as he said it he realized it was just a nice lie, he knew _exactly _what was going on...both of them did.

One of the five men who had "escorted" her to the room now crabbed a pistol-silencer attached-from his belt as another pulled out Bible and read a few verses about asking God's forgiveness. Oh, the irony. After he was finished, the man stepped away and went to join the other three who were standing outside the room, almost completely hiding the scene. Almost.

The woman had stopped fighting at this point and just looked at the armed agent, his weapon aimed at her skull.

Francessca clung to Isaaic, fear taking over all senses. It was like a horror movie, you want to grab the remote and turn it off, forget it ever happened; but you can't. Most times, in the really bad ones, you end up standing there in terror until you finally run to your room and into the comfort of your bed. There was no place to run here, no place to seek comfort.

"Lord have mercy on you soul." He said leaning in close to her face. The woman just glared at him through blood-shot eyes replying. "And," she spat out blood, "May he condemn yours to Hell..." Defenantly Polish.

A shot was fired. Two. _Three._ Francessca buried her face in Isaac's shirt as quite sobs racked her body. Isaac didn't move, didn't breath, he just stood there with his eyes open wide, plastered to the place where a few moments ago had been a proud Cahill agent and now just a corpse.

The guards checked her pulse before uncuffing her and throwing her body over his shoulder. Then he just...left. Walked away with the other agents in tow, as though he hadn't just murdered someone. Isaac's eyes never left them until they were completely out of sight.

"They're going to do that to us." Isaac turned towards the previously crying Francessca, startled by her bluntness. He turned to face her, her posture was rigid and her face pale. At the moment, she reminded him of a ghost.

"No," he assured her with a forced laugh. "_No_ of course not..."

"Don't be naiive," she chided dryly. "They _will_ kill us, It won't matter if we give them any information or not, they'll get impatient and _they'll kill us."_

Isaac sighed at the truth in her words adn allowed himself to slide down the wall and to the floor. He thought about his life. _I'll never impress my branch...I'll never become a famous inventor...I'll never live up to the family legacy...I'll never fall in love... _Ah, love. Now THERE was the truly depressing one. To never find love, to never know the joy that others so freely spoke of. His buried his face in his hands and resigned himself to moping.

"...Unless..."

"What?" Isaac jumped at her voice, the smallest glimmer of hope escaping through his eyes.

Francessca smiled nervously, "Unless we work together."

"You. And Me. Working..._together." _The idea itself was absurd to him, they could barely survive with minimal contact, and now they were supposed to work together?

Francessca-as though hearing his thoughts-sighed exsasperatedly. "Just...Hear me out, okay?" He grunted and crossed his arms, but nodded all the same.

"Okay," she started, clasping her hands together. "I know that wegot off on the wrong foot the first day rooming together...and then the next few weeks after that." Isaac raised an eyebrow. _This _was her idea of convincing him they could be a team? How had she survived this long in the Cahill circle?

"But we can't let our differences come between us! I mean, even if you are boring, stupid, arrogant, self-centered, dull, immature..." Hmm, can't say he didn't see that coming. Francessca rambled on for a few seconds before she caught Isaac's 'this _really isn't helping your cause'_ look and smacked her palm ot her forehead with a groan. "UGH! Listen to me, I'm being an _IDIOT!" _

She plopped on the floor with a loud sigh and dropped her face into her hands wiht a 'CLAP'. Isaac smiled and walked over to her, sitting himself down beside her and extending his left hand. Francessca felt his presence beside her and looked up with wide eyes that seemed to say, '_Go ahead, I insulted you so it's your turn now...'_ Then she noticed his hand and her eyes seemed ot turn a lighter shade of blue.

"Partners...?" Isaac asked. Francessca smiled.

"Partners."

* * *

_**LOVE IT? HATE IT? YOU DECIDE :-D! WAS THE DEATH SCENE A LITTLE TOO MORBID? I JUST THOUGHT THAT THEY SHOULDN'T RANDOMLY MAKE UP FROM A MONTH WORTH OF FIGHTS, THERE HAD TO BE A REASON FOR THEM TO WANT TO WORK TOGETHER.**_

**_LOVE YOU ALL!_****_  
_**

**_N.C_**


	6. Chapter 6

**HI! I-AM-JANUS HERE :-D! HERE'S CHAPTER 6! AT THIS POINT THEY'RE WARMING UP TO EACH OTHER AND TRYING TO FIND A WAY TO ESCAPE. **

**GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!**

**And hail to "I Swear On The Styx", "Joelle8", "Alexandra", "mellamaet", "Alex Almighty" and "music4evah". I STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU READ THEIR STORIES :-).**

* * *

Isaac

Isaac was tired. Truly, deeply, insanely, tired with no other words to describe it. Well...I suppose it _could _be defined as a half zombie state, but who has that mentality?...You do? Oh, well, that's good to know. Well, going back to the story, Isaac was pooped. Why? Well there were two reasons, 1) he had been spending almost every night out of the four months he had been in this prison lying awake-trying to formulate a plan-and still hadn't found a how to escape. He had learned from his first encounter with the enemy agents that he couldn't outrun them, and they had no way of getting out of their cell; even if they did there were guards all around the outside of the building. And two, because of a certain blond-haired, blue-eyed Janus girl who had way too much energy for an inmate in a Siberian prison run by people who want to kill you, and she was sparring with him right now.

_SMACK!_

Isaac staggered backwards from the force of the kick and was about to retaliate when she sent a swift blow to a sensitive area of the male anatomy...very sensitive. He fell on the ground in fetal position with a look of pain of his face.

_"EEP!_ I'm sorry, I really am! I was aiming higher, _believe_ me I was!" Francessca apologized in a high-pitched voice with her pale cheeks flushing pink. Isaac despite his current position, couldn't stop himself from blushing slightly. You see, it wasn't her foot that he had collided with...

"It's okay," he reassured, his voice squeaky from pain. They soon recovered from the awkward moment and after comforting her again with the fact that he was okay-even though he wasn't-she nodded, her cheeks still flushed, and retreated to the other side of the cell.

Their shaky friendship-yes, they were friends of sorts-had been going on for three months now, and so far things had gone surprisingly well. He no longer poured iced water on her-most of the time-, she no longer yelled at him-more than twice a day-and all in all they were getting along very well...very well indeed.

Isaac sighed lowly as he stole a glance at the beautiful girl on the other side of the cell who was fiddling with her fingers, trying to look anywhere but at him. At first, the only thing he had felt for the Janus was loathing, that was all his mind told him to feel; but now, there was something else, something he couldn't quite describe. She was beautiful, yes, but there was more than was...intriguing, sweet-when she wanted to be-, and-although he would never tell her-he _enjoyed_ it when she would randomly burst into song, he was _happy_ when she would dance when she thought he wasn't looking, he laughed at how she would try to punch him when he called her "Franky" instead of Francessca. A small smile had just crept onto his face when his thoughts were interrupted by the cell door being thrown open by a scowling guard. The two Cahills looked towards each other, each with worried expressions on their faces. It was time.

You see, once a month the Colnians would take all the prisoners outside, line them up against the stone wall and try to pry branch information out of them one by one, having the other Cahills watch as their fellow agents were beaten by the colnians when they wouldn't give up data. (Francessca and Isaac had found that giving false information was a very good way to avoid getting the same treatment).

The pair was handcuffed before being led outside and pushed into alignment against the North wall, along with all the other Cahills. They put them all in a specific order, Lucians with Lucians, Ekats with Ekats, Janus with Janus; Isaac frowned at this, as he always did. It was bad enough having to go through seeing other Cahills beat at all, but the fact that the one person who wasn't going to back-stab him wasn't even next to him made him uncomfortable.

About two minutes later, a tall, fat man with a squashed nose and beady eyes walked out of a building beside the prison with a large club in his hand, flanked by two smaller but well toned men on either side with chains in their hands; he had a predatory look in his eyes and his face was slightly twisted by a sinister smirk. Isaac couldn't help but shudder, "The Boss" as the other Colnians called him always looked scary, for him to have even the slightest hint of the smile was...disturbing.

"CAHILLS!" He bellowed loud enough for a deaf man to hear and for the hearing to wish they were deaf. "I OFFER TO YOU, A PROPOSITION!" _'Like what? Would we like to be killed with a knife, gun, or club?' _All the other prisoners however seemed very eager to know what this "proposition" was.

"WE OFFER YOU THE CHANE, TO JOIN OUR NUMBERS! WE OFFER YOU THE CHANCE, TO BECOME A 'COLNIAN'!" This started a murmuring amongst the Cahills, some relieved, others indignant and furious.

Then, a middle-aged Lucian man stepped forward, "And what, may I ask, does being a 'Colnian' entitle?" Several of his Lucian counterparts shot him incinerating glares, but either he didn't notice, or he just didn't care.

"Boss" smirked even wider at his question, "FULL BENEFITS! WOMEN, MONEY, GOOD FOOD, WARM CLOTHES, ALL THAT YOU ASK FOR SHALL BE YOURS!" This started up the murmerings again, louder this time and more enthusiastic.

"Are there any conditions in order to become a Colnian," another man asked. Isaac crinkled his nose in disgust, _'What's wrong with them? These people beat us, kill us, keep us in filthy cells and theyr'e considering joining them?'_ "IS THERE SOMETHING ON YOUR MIND, EKATARINA?" Isaac snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see "Boss" right in front of him with that smirk still planted on his face, but Isaac could've sworn that his eyes were darker than they had been before.

Isaac took a deep breath before looking him in the eye and saying, "Nothing _sir,_ I'm just a little confused as to how these _pieces_ of _shit_ could have even the remotest thought of joining an _asshole_ like you, and still have the _audicity_ to call themselves Cahills." The man glared at him for a moment before the edges of his mouth started to twitch and his eyes grew a little lighter before he threw his head back and burst out in uproarous laughter. _'Oh no he didn't,'_

He laughed for a while longer before wiping a tear from his eye and saying, "You have guts, Ekatarina, guts take you places." To say Isaac was stunned by the reply was a huge understatement, but he made sure not to let it show in his face, he wouldn't give him the pleasure.

"I'll give you one week to think about it, after that..." he trailed off to leave the rest to Isaac's imagination.

"Boss" turned around and proceeded to walk back to the brick house on the West side of the prison as the Cahills were all ushered inside. The second that he and Francessca were back in their cell, a hush settled over them.

"Do it." Isaac whipped his head up to stare at the pale girl in front of him.

"W-what?" Francessca crossed her arms over her chest and exhaled before looking up from her shoes to stare him in the eyes. Blue on Brown.

"You know what I mean, do it, join the Colnians."

"But...why?" Francessca sighed and shook her head as though she was talking to a toddler. "Isaac they'll kill you if you don't, I can't let you die."

Isaac crinkled his brow in confusion, "What do you mean?" Isaac caught his breath as he stared into Francessca's tear-filled eyes,

"Because I love you,"

* * *

_**SO, WHADYA' THINK? I'M ACTUALLY VERY PROUD OF THIS CHAPTER, BUT THAT'S JUST ME. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT MY BELOVED READERS THINK :-).**_

**_LOVE YOU ALL!_****_  
_**

**_N.C_**

**I-AM-JANUS**


	7. Chapter 7

**HI! I-AM-JANUS HERE :-D! HERE'S CHAPTER 6! AT THIS POINT THEY'RE WARMING UP TO EACH OTHER AND TRYING TO FIND A WAY TO ESCAPE. **

**GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!**

**And hail to "I Swear On The Styx", "Joelle8", "Alexandra", "mellamaet", "Alex Almighty" and "music4evah". I STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU READ THEIR STORIES :-).**

* * *

Francessca

_'Because I love you,'_

Francessca could have slapped herself the moment those words left her mouth. Love? Really? Sure she _admired _his intelligence, and of course she was grateful that he had good manners-when he wasn't waking her up-and it didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes but that wasn't love; it was..._infatuation._ However, even as she thought this, she knew she was lying to herself.

Truth was, she had falen in love with him when they had first seen each other. He hadn't spoken a word, neither of them had, but somehow that didn't matter. Just through the kind, sympathetic looks he had given her and the smile-though somewhat sickly-that he had flashed when she was tossed in to the Colnian transporter had made her go "head over heals."

She had fought it of course, to be _sure_ she had; she had been fighting it for four months now. _Four. _She had gone so far as to insult, injure, ignore him, but little Miss Margolis had never been a good liar and it looked as though she never would be.

There was something about being around him, talking to him; Hell, even fighting with him-verbally and physically-that was..._exhilarating,_ and left her fascinated and yearning for more. There was however a itsy-bitsy detail that added a rather large flaw to the little romance she had concocted in her mind. She sighed as she caught sight of his jacket, strewn on the floor with a yellow dragon on the inside of the collar.

Being with him-she decided to herself-was like a drug. She _knew _that it was bad for her, and she _knew _that it could get her killed (seeing as though love in general was hazardous to an agent) but she found herself not caring; the only thing she cared about was the euphoria she felt when he smiled at her and how she could get more of it.

She continued to stare into his eyes and saw a mixture of feeling: confusion, happiness, sadness...love? She shook the thought out of her head. Oh, yes, _definitely_ a drug. An intoxicating, vile, and highly addictive drug.

They stood in silence for a moment before Francessca broke the silence, "I'm sorry, I...I shouldn't have said that." Isaac just stared at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. She would've smiled if the moment hadn't been so serious. "I-I do mean it though, but you...me..._us._ It would never work, and you know that...I know that."

He shook his head slightly, as though he was trying to come out of a daze, "Frankie I-"

"Don't," she said sharply, almost pleading. Francessca wasn't used to being hurt, adn she didn't want to be. So she turned around to the other side of the cell, and lay down on what she had dubbed "the world's most uncomfortable mattress" with her back towards a very confused, very hurt Isaac.

"I..." his voice trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Some genious he was.

He sighed deeply and took one last look at the small girl-now in fetal position-before scuffling over to his "Sleeping Square of Doom". He couldn't help but smile at the memory, it had been the first time they had laughed together.

_"GO AWAY!"_

_"Ah, Frankie-"_

_"My name is Francessca," __Isaac sighed, there was just no reasoning with this woman. She _had _to admit that the look on her face when he put that ice-cube down her back was indeeed priceless. However, the look that was on her face _now _said anything but. _

_Seeing as though he didn't much like the idea of getting murdered in his sleep, he decided to try and make ammends _one _last time._

_"Come on Frankie, you're not really gonna' send me to the Sleeping Square of Doom without an 'I forgive you Isaac,' are ya'?" He asked even going so far as to mimic her mixed accent at the end. Francessca froze where she was and turned to stare at him with an unsupressed smile across her face-which was turning red._

_"Did you honestly just say, 'Sleeping Square of Doom'?" Isaac gaped at her with wide eyes. Should he take it back? Try to deny it? He decided on an alternate plan and said, "Yes. Yes I did, and if you don't forgive me than it will be even worse to go back to it." They continued to stare for a moment before they both burst out in hysterical laughter._

_He was forgiven._

He curled up into a ball and stared at the wall; taking deep, even breaths while Francessca did the same on the other side of the room. They were as close to the walls as they could get, with their backs facing each other.

Neither of them slept that night.

* * *

They didn't talk to each other the next morning, or the next week for that matter; how could they? What would any conversation they started be like? Sure they would try to get it to go in an innocent direction, but all attempts of conversation would eventually end up on the topic of that fateful day. For instance:

"Here's your food Frankie,"

"Thanks," an akward silence would follow until one-or both-of them would cautiously say, "About what happened..." and yet another akward silence would follow.

Because of this dilema, the two found themselves avoiding the other...or at least as much as you can when your in the same room and share the same food. The harldy came in contact with each other at all throughout the days to follow, not even a friendly spar came up at any point, nor did Isaac wake Francessca up in some diabolical way. He just waited, like a normal human being. (Odd as that may sound when referring to any one Cahill.)

However, that _night _which marked a exactly a week sense the 'incident', was a far different story.

* * *

Isaac woke up to the sound of violent coughing that sounded somewhere between a dying taradactyl and a bear with a soar throat. Naturally he spun around, expecting to see a prehistoric creature in need of help, but instead found a pale-even for her-and sweaty Francessca, gripping the bed with all her might as she couged violently, some blood coming with it.

Isaac felt an overwhelming panic wash over him as he rushed over to her, seeing her convulse in obvious agony, and not having the faintest idea as to how he could help her. He was almost relieved by the presence of a guard a few minutes later.

"What's going on in there!" Isaac ignored the fact that it wasn't a question but a demand and aswered him...albeit a bit frantically. "I don't know what's wrong! I jsut woke up and she's was hacking her lungs out!"..._Very _frantic, but he'd never tell you that under pain of death.

The guard started to open his mouth-probably to scold him for shouting at him-but was cut off by a sharp cough from Francessca. This caught his attention and he rushed out of the cell for a moment before coming back with a cold, damp rag and slapping onto the feverish girl's forehead. She let out another strain of ear-splitting coughs before collapsing and taking deep breaths; the gaurd narrowed his eyes for a moment before dashing off again-which Isaac didn't really appreciate, but he couldn't very well say anything now could he?

Isaac knelt next her as she shook and seemingly turned paler by the second-if that was possible, she was paper-white already. "It's okay, Franky." he whispered soothingly as he straked her palm with his thumb. "...Isaac..." she muttered weekly, her voice barely recognizable from the shrill, teasing tone it usually held. "It's okay," he repeated hoping to calm her, "Everything will be fine." _Maybe..._

He soon heard the welcomed footsteps of the guard and at least three others-his suspicions of the number confirmed when the barged into the room. Two of the men were "soldiers", another was a man who looked like a docor, and the third was "Boss"..._Goody. _The man-who really was a doctor-quickly took Isaac's place beside Francessca and began to work.

After what seemd like hourse to Isaac-but was really only a few minutes-the doctor stood and said one word, "Tuburculosis." Isaac was stunned into silence for a second before starting up again, "What? No, _no_, I mean-she-but isn't there-_aren't_ symptoms or _something_? The elderly gentleman looked up to meet Isaac's gaze, effectively shutting him up and stopping him from making himself look an idiot all at once.

"Tell me boy," he began gravely, "Has she been shaking, coughing, out of breath?" Isaac was about to go with the immediate answer of "no", but then he thought first. The way she shook after they sparred, or even when he was just handing her food; how she had been going to sleep earlier and it seemed to be harder and harder to wake her up...the random fits of coughing-which he had previously passed off as a dry throat-suddenly seemed pertinent.

"Yes," he muttered, almost too quietly to be considered a word. "But you're a _doctor_! Aren't you-can't you just help her...please?" He looked as though he was about to answer, but the gruff clearing of a throat stopped him before he even began. Isaac turned to the source and saw "Boss" standing with his hands crossed in front of him and a stern look on his already sour face.

"Dr. Daniels," he rasped out in a throaty unwelcoming voice, the doctor stood up straight and faced his leader. "Yes, Sir?" "Boss" paused for a moment, as though he wasn't sure of his actions, "Would you and the other gentlemen present step outside." It wasn't a question, it was an order...one that they would do well to obey. He gave a curt nod before extiting the room along with the guards and the small group walked down the hall and out of the building.

Only after the footsteps had been out of earshot for some minutes did "Boss" turn his face to Isaac, who was shocked at what he saw in the older man's eyes. _Sympathy._

"The Janus really are a charming race. To be sure they can be_...irritating_, but all in all not bad." his features had smoothed out so that they looked almost pleasent, and his tense stance had relaxed a great deal, if not completely. He slowly-almost hesitantly-made his way over to the bed and the girl on it as an emotion that Isaac didn't quite recognize flitted across the older agent's eyes which was washed away a moment later with unmistakable sadness. "I should know..." The two stood in silence for a moment just watching as Francessca gripped the sheets, struggling for breath. He sighed before continuing with his previous 'almost-speech', "The women especially are quite unique, I can guarantee you know my boy that no creature in the world is more elegant more..._mysterious,_ than a Janus woman." a flicker of a smile crossed his face before it was again replaced with sorrow. "Look at her, even now she's so beautiful...It's impossible not to fall in love with them." Isaac's eyes widened in realization at his words. Had "Boss", the pitiless leader of the Colnians been in love once?...with a _Cahill?_

"Boss" looked up and chuckled darkly at Isaac's "deer-in-the-headlights" expression and proceeded to explain further, "It was a long time ago. We were both young, amibtious, too in love to care about what our branches thought, about what could _happen _if the discovered us..." his voice caught at the end and he had to swallow before continuing, "They were furious, absolutly livid, we were both threatened with exile, _death_ if it continued so...we didn't." okay, now Isaac was _sure _he saw a tear.

"She married another man, a _Tomas," _he said the word with outright loathing, not necessarily for the branch, but for the man who belonged to it-and apprently who he held responsible for taking his beloved away. He stopped talking then, turning away-possibly embaressed for having shared so much information...but it wasn't enough for Isaac, he needed to know how it ended. He wasn't sure why, but somehow this story seemed..._connected _somehow, like it would be valuable to him later on, so he dared.

"What...what happened to her, Sir?" he added the last part hastily, not wanting to take too many liberties. "Boss" looked up for a moment and managed a watery smile, "She-she died...d-died of childbirth." Isaac looked over at Francessca-who had worked herself into another coughing fit-and thought about how he would feel if she died...he couldn't help but feel sorry for the man.

"Boss" looked up sharply, knocking Isaac out of his trance. He took a deep breath, "Moral of this story, I lost my true love and I'll be damned if I'll let you lose yours." Isaac felt like disagreeing, saying that he was _not _in love with Francessca Margolis and yet...he couldn't. He couldn't lie to himself anymore, now matter how much he wanted to.

"I'll give you a deal, boy," "Boss" starting, having regained his normal, gruff voice-although it didn't do much to disguise his tear-stained face. "You join the Colnian forces for say...a year, pay off time with service, and I'll see to it that she gets treatment for her disease and-once she is cured-is sent back to her home country and so will you when your year is up." Isaac hesitated a moment, _'Join the Colnians? Abuse, possibly kill other Cahills?' _He was really started to question this guy's mental state, but a sharp cough from a trembling Francessa cut him short and suddenly a year with the Colnians seemed like a small price to pay for saving her life...

* * *

**_LOVE YOU ALL!_****_  
_**

**_N.C_**

**I-AM-JANUS**


	8. Chapter 8

**HI! I-AM-JANUS HERE :-D! HERE'S CHAPTER 7! _WARNING:_ THIS CHAPTER IS SHORT AND SAD, AND SHOULD NOT BE READ BY THOSE OF WEAK HEART! **

**GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!**

**And hail to "I Swear On The Styx", "Joelle8", "Alexandra", "mellamaet", "Alex Almighty" and "music4evah" AND "003keyblader". I STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU READ THEIR STORIES :-D!**

* * *

To say that Isaac Bennet was _sad_ would be a gross understatement. To say he was _furious_ would be a _bit_ closer. To let it cross your mind that he was a miserable shell of a human being would be disturbingly accurate. The older man in front of him looked upon the boy with an unmistakable sadness in his eyes.

"I'm sorry my boy, there's just...nothing else they can do for her..." Isaac couldn't help it when sorrow washed over his being.

_Why?..._

He sighed, feeling as though the weight of the world had been pressed on his shoulders.

* * *

_Isaac watched as a guard carried Francessca away and placed her on a mattress in the back of one of the many gray trucks and drove off into the distance. _

_"Will she be okay?" Isaac asked, his voice breaking at the end. "Boss" sighed and put his arm around Isaac's shoulders in an almost fatherly gesture, "Kid," he began confidently. "I have some of the finest doctors at my disposal, I assure that she'll be good as new within the month._

* * *

_'Good as new my ass,' _

Isaac thought bitterly as his hands clenched on the edge of his desk. "Boss"'s offer to him in exchange for Francessca's health and freedom echoed in his mind, _"I'll tell you what, join the Colnian forces for a year and I'll see to it that she is cured..." _

What a laugh.

Isaac had done everything "Boss"-and any other high ranking Colnian-had asked of him for exactly a year. He trained with them, did their dirty work, used their weapons, everything.

A deal was a deal, we had been dropped back off at the precise place that he had been taken from, _with _the Ekatarina information that he had been sent to retrieve in the first place. He might've been "working" for the Colnians, but who said he had forgotten his original assignment? He had stolen information every chance he got, using the Colnians own computers to send the data back to his branch.

By the time he got back "home", he was a celebrity.

No one had ever been able to retrieve stolen data from the Colnians before-well, none that lived anyway-and it was quite a shock that a rookie agent would come back with all that we was sent to get and more, going so far as to steal Colnian data as well. He had been promoted straight-away, even receiving an award from Bae Oh himself.

Over the next four years, he had dedicated himself entirely the the Cahill cause. Training night and day, developing new and extremely useful weapons, and-something not quite as useful-pining over a certain young girl...

He shot through the ranks, and, at the tender age of twenty, was a top-ranking agent and renowned throughout the "Western World" as "The greatest young mind of our day." But then there was Francessca...

She wasn't cured within the month, or the year for that matter. In fact, she wasn't cured at all. By the time the got to the hospital that Francessca was to be sent to, her condition had become very severe, even with their best efforts she continued to fall ill due to a weakened immune system. Long after they thought she would die, Francessca had fallen into a coma.

Isaac had been distraught.

You see, he had kept in touch with "Boss"-discreetly of course-who kept him up to date on Francessca's condition...or-more often then not-_conditions. _It was always bad, and Isaac had always worried, but this had the power to tear him down completely.

Now here was "Boss"-he never did tell him his real name-telling him that the love of his life was going to die.

"Isaac, you have to..._understand." _The Colnian told him, cringing slightly at his own words. "She's been sick for a very long time...you knew this would happen, sooner or later." _This is sooner._

"They can't keep doing this to her, they've had to revive her five times within the past week." Isaac felt a large crack go across his heart, "She's not going to make it Isaac, they say that she'll be dead by morning, if not sooner."

Isaac sighed before collapsing into a chair and letting sobs of heartbreak rack his body. "Boss" was right, he _had _known that this was coming, he had known since woke up that fateful night to the sound of her coughs.

That didn't mean that it hurt any less.

* * *

Francessca woke up lying on a cot of some sort and people bustling around her. _Where am I...who are these people...where's Isaac...? _All these things ran-or more of slow motion walked-through her mind as she fought to stay conscious...she lost.

She awoke again in what she knew to be a hospital room, with an IV stuck into her arm, _'What on...' _then she remembered. The pain, the coughing, the blood, Isaac...She shook her head in an attempt to clear out any thoughts of the boy, but only succeeded in giving herself in even bigger headache than she already had-and tha'ts saying something. She sighed, turning to take a real look at her arm and almost shrieked at what she saw.

A pale, dry, piece of limp flesh hanging from thin bones, stacked one on top of the other. Her nails, once perfect ovals now long and chipped. Her elegant muscles, brought on by years of training were but a memory, and her rosy undertones not at all visible. She somehow summoned the strength to reach-or rather throw-her usable arm up to feel what she remembered to be soft, wavy locks; but was met with thin, uneven tendrils that fell limp against her face. In a word, she was a wreck.

It felt like years before someone finally came into the small, blindingly white room-though really it was only twenty-eight minutes-and she was relieved when a doctor in a white coat walked through the door. He however was...shocked-too say the least-and let out a shout and fell backwards onto his rear when he saw her staring at him with wide, blue eyes.

"You-you're a...you're a-aw-awake! But that's not possible, we were supposed to take you off the machine, you weren't supposed to come back!" _What's this guy on?_

"Umm, excuse me, I think you have me confused with someone else. My name is Francess-"

"I know you're name, and that's how I know that you should be dead!" He interrupted, successfully shocking Francessca out of her wits. She took a good look at him. He was small-couldn't be more than 5'0-had wild, graying brown hair; fair skin, and wide, green eyes.

"Sir, I...I don't know-what do you mean?" Francessca started, now thoroughly scared.

The man calmed himself slightly before continuing, "Young lady, you have been in this hospital for...a very long time. You've been _sick _for a _very long time_. You weren't supposed to make it through the night, you are supposed. To be. _Dead."_

She stared at him disbelievingly until her eyes caught her own reflection in a mirror on the far wall. Her hair, once thin and ash-blonde hair, was now almost curly, and the color of fine cocoa. She examined her face next; nose was slightly longer, her cheek bones more defined than the girlish roundness she used to have. Her eyes had gone from baby blue to deep azure. She felt a wave of dread wash over her. She had seen a woman that resembled the person she found staring back at her in the mirror. It was the picture of her Mother that her Father had shown her when she was just a little girl. The picture of her Mother, when she was twenty. Years. _Old._

* * *

**_LOVE YOU ALL!_****_  
_**

**_N.C_**

**I-AM-JANUS**


	9. Chapter 9

**HI! I-AM-JANUS HERE :-D! HERE'S CHAPTER 8-OR TECHNICALLY 9, IF YOU COUNT THE PROLOGUE :-)! I'.**

**GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!**

**And hail to "I Swear On The Styx", "Joelle8", "Alexandra", "mellamaet", "Alex Almighty" and "music4evah", "LillianClassic", "AshNinja", "Lady Samantha of Narnia", AND "Lankyman". I STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU READ THEIR STORIES :-D!**

* * *

_Francessca_

Francessca gaped at herself in the mirror and not from vanity, oh no, far from it. She felt herself on the verge of tears as she looked into stranger in her own skin...at least what used to be her own.

"Wh-...what did you _do _to me? What-what's wrong with me?"

The elerly man straightened his glasses and pulled a clipboard out of his jacket, scirbbling casually while muttering, "What did you do to me..." under his breath. Francessca noticed that on the side of his pant-as well as on the obttem of the clipboard-was a double-headed snake. _Lucian._

He tucked the board under his arm and made his way over to Francessca's side, and proceeded to check all the monitors, jotting down the necessary information. Francessca's brows furrowed in confusion, and she was about to re-ask her question from earlier, but a sharp look from the Doctor caused her to shut her jaw with an audible 'snap'.

The Doctor continued to write down notes on his pad, exiting the room and then re-appearing a few minutes later with a fresh pad and-in one instance-various test tubes which he filled with samples of Francessca's blood, skin, and hair. This continued for what must have been at least a few hours, until finally, he came back to the room with only himself and his glasses in tow. however, Francessca still waited what must have been three minutes before speaking up...The last thing she wanted was for him to walk away again while she was in the middle of a question.

"Well," he started when he felt the silence had stretched for long enough. "Anytime now, Janus." It was slighlty unnerving to Francessca that he knew her branch, but it would be rather impossible for him not to she supposed. He was, after all, her "Doctor".

But she remained silent.

He pulled up a chair, and it didn't go unnoticed by him how the Chaill's defenses imediately shot up. The nervous babbling from earlier was gone, and she wasn't about to show any more weakness than she had to...A rather impossible feat when one is lying on a hospital bed.

Finally, she spoke. "Who are you?"

_Honestly?_ "My name is Doctor David, Doctor Samuel David."

Francessca still had her guard up, but was much more at ease now. The fact that he had given her a name meant thta he couldn't have done anything terribly criminal...unless the name was fake, but she didn't have time to think about that.

"Alright 'Doctor David', how long have I been here?"

_Damn_

"Uh...My dear, you've been through quite an ordeal, perphaps you should-"

"Perphaps _you _should tell me what's going on. I'm weak, I'm not helpless." It was only then that he noticed that she had somehow gotten a hold of his pen and now held in a death-grip in her right hand. She was right, she certainly wasn't helpless, and he imagined she was quite dangerous when in need of information. Right now, he was her target.

He cleared his throat, "You certainly don't play well with others, do you?"

Francessca reisited the urge to roll her eyes and leaned forward on the bed just enough to have the tip of his pen pointed against his jugular. Francessca's face twisted with rage. "A Lucian creation, the ink's poisenous, extrememly effective for asassinations." The Doctor gulped, the girl was more trouble then his employer had let on, he certainly hadn't signed up for beign threatened by a girl-who was supposed to be dead, mind you-with his own weapon, the weapon that he had been sent to kill _her _with.

Karma's a bitch.

"You were ordered to kill me with this little sweetheart, weren't you,Doctor?" she asked rhetorically, pressing the afore-mentioned pen further into his neck, dangerously close to breaking skin. Samuel started to panic, "Look,it isn't my choice! I was told that if after five years you still hadn't died from the other poisens _to get rid of you!_ But obviously that didn't work, now did it!"

He continued to ramble, pouring out everything about his mission like a broken faucet.

_"They said to keep feeding you the poisen, to make sure you stayed asleep, to have everyone think you were in a comma! They said you'd die eventually, that my work was don, but you just wouldn't go! You were supposed to have died on week one!" Francessca pressed the pen harder. It broke through the first barrier of skin. He began to get hysterical._

"They said today it would all be over, they told me to get the job done! And guess what, you were the job sweetheart! You were supposed to die! But no, no, you just had to keep it up, didn't you? Five fucking years of hard work and for what! To be stood up by you? A kid!" He was laughing at this point, and Francessca wasn't sure whether he was mad, or stark-raving _mad._

However, even under the circumstances-especially under the circumstances-the weight of the news hit her like a ton of bricks. Five years, five years he had stolen from her. She remembered coming here, remembered being sick, remembered how they said they would help her. She could have been healed by now, could have been back in Italy with her friends, her art, she could have been with Isaac...

Isaac, Ekatarina she hated, the boy she fought with, the man she fell in love with. Perphaps they could have had a life together, but for all she knew, he probably thought she was dead and-at the ripe age of twenty-could very well have a girlfriend, Hell, he could be _married._ That could have been her life and this Lucian, this piece of filth had stolen that from her.

She was suddenly filled with an overwhelming fury.

"Tell me who hired you, TELL ME!" the man flinched but answered none-the-less. "The Vespers, I was hired by the Vespers...They somehow caught wind of your being here and man, we're they sweet on you. How does it feel, hmmm. To be a mutt, not fully Janus? A Janus and a Tomas, with the skill of both branches, who would've guessed."

Francessca had never killed before, but she found herself unremorseful as she plunged the full length of the pen into "Samuel"'s throat...And-cold as it sounds-it would be a lie to say that she didn't find some sadistic pleasure in watching him die.

Francessca threw on the dead man's pants, shirt, and jacket, using his belt to fasten it all securely around her underweight form. She even got his socks, wrapping the around her small, pale feet.

She opened the one window in the room to see dense forrest-land, dusted in a thin layer of snow. She might have found it beautiful but for the fact that she was still in the room with her first kill-something that moments had not fazed her, but now was creeping it's way into the nightmarish part of her mind, the part that used to chant _'murderers, murderers, murderers' _everytime she thought of the clue-hunt. She had been right, and hse hated the feeling of being one of them.

She climbed down the side of the cold, stone wall, and hit the ground running.

She was running to freedom, to home, and was never going to look back.

* * *

**_WELL? I'M AWARE THAT I CAN DO BETTER, AND THAT IT'S KINDA' JUST A FILLER, BUT FORGIVE ME :-(? _**

* * *

**_LOVE YOU ALL!_****_  
_**

**_N.C_**

**I-AM-JANUS**


	10. Chapter 10

**HI! I-AM-JANUS HERE :-D! SO *ahem* IT'S BEEN A WHILE...*dodges rotten fruits and veggies*...BUT HOPEFULLY THIS WILL BE GOOD ENOUGH TO APPEASE YOU :-).**

** THIS SERVES AS AN EPILOGUE FOR "Who Would've Guessed" AS WELL AS A PROLOGUE FOR THE UPCOMING SEQUEL.  
**

**GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST!**

**And hail to "I Swear On The Styx", "Joelle8", "Alexandra", "mellamaet", "Alex Almighty" and "music4evah", "LillianClassic", "AshNinja", "Lady Samantha of Narnia", AND "Lankyman". I STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU READ THEIR STORIES :-D!**

* * *

A dark-haired young man walked briskly down the dark, dreary streets of Manhattan, dark brown eyes fixed straight ahead. His muscular arms swinging just enough to cut the air in front of him and his back perfectly straight. Anyone who saw him would think he was a man on a mission-of which the nature would best remain unknown-and that to disturb him in this mission would be nothing short of suicidal. They would be absolutely right. He continued at a fast pace for quite some time, before turning, and walking across the road towards the deceivingly beautiful building on the other side, the "Brushton Building of Liberal Arts".

The marble structure stood out in stark contrast to the dark streets of New York, lit up from top to bottom with enough unnecessary decoration and lights to make one blind. The building itself was an architectural marvel. None of the standard "big building" cookie-cutter shapes on this beauty, completely original and made entirely of obsidian and marble. The young man knew for a fact that the inside had been trimmed with gold and silver. The whole thing had cost a fortune, more than most make in a lifetime. He smiled-half in pride, half in anger. Of course the building would be astounding, the blueprints were, after all, stolen from the Ekatarina database.

The masque being held in the building was in celebration of Darius Brushton's 38th year of life. The Cahill couldn't help but see the near comical irony.

He didn't hesitate to pull out an ID and present it to the man standing guard at the front entrance, waiting patiently while he examined it. He could have very well entered through a more..._discreet _opening, but where was the fun in that when he could play with a few minds while he was at it? After a few minutes, the middle-aged man seemed satisfied.

"Thank you for coming Mr. Bennet, right this way."

The fact that Brushton was unaware of his status as second in command of the Ekatarina branch - seeing as though he never bothered to brush up on such matters - was merely an added bonus, which was even more useful when he received a legitimate invitation as the "greatest inventive mind of our day". It saved the time of forging one.

He nodded his head curtly at the man before brushing past the door and into a ballroom - for lack of a better word - and what a room it was. A diamond chandelier hung from the ceiling - crystals were far too commonplace - and marble flooring. The room was chock full of men in tuxedos and women in designer gowns, all varying in color, style, cut, but everyone wore a mask. It _was_ a masquerade, and what is a masquerade without them? To top it all off, Isaac was nearly sure that that was the New York Symphony in the corner playing the beautiful music.

A small smile spread across his thin lips. What with all this "bling", one would have that that Mr. Brushton was a Janus and not a Lucian...

_Janus_...

His smile immediately fell, and was replaced with deep pain before resuming its mask of indifference. You would have thought that he would have gotten better forgetting about what happened, twelve years was a long time for a heart to be breaking. It was at that moment that Darius Brushton himself swept into the room, with an "I'm God's gift to women" smile and a high-heeled model on each arm.

_Pervert._

_"Pervert,"_ a decidedly female voice mumbled from beside him. He smirked and turned his head to look at the woman next him - who remained oblivious to his attentions - to see who it was that had stated the ugly truth. He was completely unprepared for what he saw.

Her green eyes were concealed behind a blue mask of sequins and peacock feathers, wavy hair, blondish-brown in color fell to her waist and she had fair, flawless skin.

_No.  
_

She was different, that was for certain, but doesn't everyone change as they grow up? Isaac knew that he, considered very handsome now held little to no resemblance to the boy he had been in that cell so many years ago. But this was different, she wasn't supposed to be here, she wasn't even supposed to be _alive._

_And she isn't, my Frankie had blue eyes._

He was snapped out of his trance by a thunderous applause all around him, and he could only assume that Brushton had made a speech, but when he turned to see, the man was already gone. He mentally cursed himself for letting his mind wander during a mission like this. Brushton had been stealing valuable intelligence from all branches, even the classifieds of his own branch. The snake needed to be disposed of, and fast.

He allowed himself one more look at where the mystery woman had been. She wasn't there. _Fabulous,_ he thought. _If I keep losing sight of targets like this, I'll be retired within the year._ He took a deep breath to refocus himself before setting his destination towards the upstairs room where Brushton's office was.

It was about time someone paid the rat a visit. _Privately._

After what seemed like a hundred flights of stairs, Isaac finally pulled managed to heft all 6"2' of himself onto the top floor and gave out a relieved sigh. _Boot camp my ass, just make the kids climb a ton of stairs everyday and they'll go straight as a line. _

He turned the corner to the entrance of the office and retrieved a credit card from his wallet (Hey, "If it ain't broke don't fix it".) but was unpleasantly surprised to find the mahogany door to be already opened. Brushton was a fool, but he wasn't stupid. He knew better than to leave a door unlocked.

Isaac's body stiffened as he withdrew a slender, but powerful gun from the inside of his coat. He braced himself before lightly pushing the door open just enough to slink through. At first, there was nothing, but he didn't let his guard down. And stalked towards the desk on the far side of the room. There was Brushton, body slack against the table. There was a pen in one hand, and a gun in the other, with a letter written in elegant script collecting blood beneath his head wound.

_Dammit._

If it wasn't bad enough that an unknown agent - and it _was _an agent - had gotten to the bastard first, he'd now have the pleasure of explaining to Bae exactly why he hadn't gotten there sooner. Joy.

He barely had time to finish the thought before he felt cold metal pressed against the soft spot between his head and neck. He reacted instinctively, thrusting his elbow into the body behind him before adjusting his grip on his own weapon and pointing it at the the Cahill in front of him. Only to have his heart stop before speeding up to a thousand miles per hour.

It was the woman who had stood beside him in the ballroom, one green-tinted contact had fallen to the floor while the other one hung haphazardly to her cheek.

Her eyes were a brilliant blue, with a hint of brown, and a line of green. Eyes he had dreamt of for twelve long years.

_"Francessca..."_

* * *

**DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN! WHAT DO YOU THINK? LET MET KNOW IF YA' LIKE IT THROUGH A REVIEW OR A PM. THE ****FIRST REVIEWER/PM-ER GETS TO NAME THE SEQUEL AND MAKE A CHARACTER!**_  
_

**_LOVE YOU ALL!_****_  
_**

**_N.C_**

**I-AM-JANUS**


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